


cityscape

by pb1888



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Is Alive, Kind of ???, M/M, Rare Pairings, everyone but des is in college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pb1888/pseuds/pb1888
Summary: It was supposed to beonefavor. Pick him up, drop him off. Done. That was it. However, Desmond hadn't expected Malik's younger brother so be such a polar opposite to the elder Al-Sayf; so friendly and open... a bit naive, too, at times. Desmond wasn't the only one surprised that Kadar warmed up so quickly to him--Malik was surprised as well. And that's how Desmond got himself a job being a makeshift tutor for the younger Al-Sayf, helping him out with English, schoolwork, and the like. It was just a couple hours every other day, and he didn't mind spending time with Kadar--though at times he felt like Malik didn't like how close they were getting.Oh well, shit happens.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i watched the (bad) AC movie and got dragged back into AC hell for the first time since 2012 what up kiddos  
> this is so self-indulgent it's the dumbest pairing in the world but i just _love_ it _so much_

“Why do  _ I  _ have to do it? You do it!”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to.”

“But he’s your  _ boyfriend _ .”

“Shut up! He’s not!”

Desmond sneered, turning his attention back to the television. “Sure, whatever you say.” He flicked through the channels, trying to find something that could captivate him for another hour before he had to head off to his nightshift. Behind him, he heard the other huff.

“Look, if you do this, I’ll… give you gas money.”

“Who are you, my dad?”

“Come on!”

“Well, if you fill up my bike’s tank, I’ll consider it.”

“ _ Ayreh feek _ !”

“I don’t speak Arabic.”

“I said—whatever! I’ll fill up your dumb tank!”

“Aw geez, you’re the best short-tempered brother ever, Altaïr.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Desmond chuckled again, still grinning. “Alright, I’ll stop. What do you want me to do again?”

“You need to go to the airport and pick up Kadar.”

“… who?”

“Malik’s little brother.”

“Oh. Right—wait, why isn’t  _ he  _ picking him up? It’s  _ his  _ brother.”

“He has this thing he can’t get out of and he asked me to go pick him up instead.”

“And you’re asking me to do it because… ?”

“Because I  _ don’t want to _ , and you know damn well why I’m  _ not  _ going to ask Ezio to do this.”

“So you picked me.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think Malik would like that. He asked  _ you _ . Besides, I don’t think he likes me that much.”

“He doesn’t like Ezio. He’s neutral about you.”

“Like it makes a difference.”

“Do you want me to fill up your shitty bike’s tank or not?”

“Okay, okay.” Desmond sighed. “When do I pick him up?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, at two.”

“Alright… should I like. Bring a sign or something?”

“What, you don’t remember what he looks like?”

“Alt, I’ve  _ never  _ met him.”

“But you’ve seen pictures.”

“Maybe? I don’t remember, man.”

“You’ll remember when you see him. All you have to do is pick him up and take him over to Malik’s place. It’s easy.” Altaïr clasped his shoulder as he passed by him, making his way out the door. “ _ Shukran _ , Desmond.”

“ _ Äafwan. _ ”

“I thought you didn’t speak Arabic.”

Desmond only smiled at him, watching the other leave the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. The smile quickly fell from his face and he slumped in his seat, exhaling through his nose. What did he just get himself into?

The only reason he knew Malik at all was because he was close friends with his half-brother. Besides that, their interactions were few and far between--he would consider him an acquaintance, at the most. Altaïr expected him to just pick up his younger brother and drop him off without a problem? He didn’t even know Malik  _ had  _ a brother. If he ever did see pictures of him, it had been  _ forever _ ago. Like  _ shit  _ he’d know him when he’d see him.

Desmond pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it with a press of his thumb and tapping on the facebook icon. He rarely used the app and only kept it on his phone for whenever Ezio wanted him to ‘like’ some ridiculous thing for him or to keep in contact with his father, who he  _ hated _ . But it was better to keep the old guy content, and if it meant having his three bastard sons on some outdated social app, then so be it. With a few quick swipes the page before him read “Malik Al-Sayf”. The header was of Malik himself and a young boy beside him. Their similarities threw Desmond off for a moment, but he soon remembered that Malik had a son.

It only proved how  _ little _ the two interacted.

Desmond continued to scroll through the pictures, swiping past all the pictures of the young boy and occasionally coming across some of Altaïr. It wasn’t until he had been swiping for some time that he stopped on one photo of a considerably younger Malik and another young man beside him. The two looked alike but what was getting Desmond’s attention was the other’s bright eyes. A startling blue that was quite the contrast to Malik’s brown eyes. Was that his brother? The more he stared, the more he was sure of it. He  _ had  _ seen photos of him before. How could anyone forget those  _ eyes _ ?

His phone beeped, a notification appearing onto his screen:  _ Work 7:00 PM _ .

He sighed, clearing the notification and rising to his feet. He had to get going or else he’d get there late. Grabbing his coat and his key, he stepped outside and locked the door behind him. Although he was mainly focused on getting to work, he was also thinking about Kadar. Altaïr had been right--it shouldn’t be  _ too  _ hard to pick him out from a crowd. What if it was awkward, though? What was he going to tell him? 

Hi, your brother couldn’t pick you up and mine’s being an asshole so I had to come get you. Name’s Desmond, welcome to New York?

Yeah right.

He made it to work without a problem, already having mentally prepared himself for the long night ahead. In the back if his mind, the busy night crowd kept him distracted, and his thoughts didn’t wander back to his deal with Altaïr until early the next morning when he cleaning up the bar and getting ready to head out. One thought in particular stood out; what if he was  _ just  _ like Malik? What if he also had the same stuck-up, stick-up-his-ass attitude that the older Al-Sayf was known for? Malik was a very wary person, so what if Kadar wouldn’t even  _ go  _ with him? That’d be  _ great _ . He could already picture himself having to call up Altaïr to tell him that Kadar didn’t trust him for obvious reasons and to somehow try to fix it, be it having him show up anyway or talking to Kadar over the phone, or somehow magically convince to just come along with some stranger he’s never met before.

If that was the case, it was going to be a long drive from the airport to Malik’s place.

Desmond sighed, locking the door behind him and trudging over to his bike. What he  _ really  _ wanted right now was to sleep. Between worrying about keeping his favor to Altaïr and rowdy, drunken patrons, he was worn out. Luckily for him, he had a couple days off. He was going to spend them  _ sleeping _ .

He made it home without passing out (thank god) and he climbed into bed without bothering to change out of his bartender uniform. He merely kicked off his shoes as he nestled into the covers, eyelids heavy. Sleep easily came to him and he quickly drifted off.

He could worry about Kadar when it came time to.. in about twelve or so hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayreh feek: Fuck you  
> Shukran: Thank you  
> Äafwan: You're welcome


End file.
